I have been fascinated by the story of O since I read it the first time, especially the beginning where O gets into the car with her lover and he prepares her for her arrival at Roissy. All the arrangements of her clothes are there for her to feel exposed and prepare her for her ordeal at the mansion. The best part of it is this:
'Undo your garter-belt,' he says, 'take off your panties.' There's is nothing to that, all she has to do is get at the hook behind and raise up a little. He takes the garter-belt from her hand, he takes the panties, opens her bag, puts them away inside it; then he says: 'You're not to sit on your slip or on your skirt, pull them up and sit on the seat without anything in between.' The seat-covering is a sort of leather, slick and chilly; it's a very strange sensation, the way it sticks and clings to her thighs.
Since then the thought of having to take off my knickers and pull up my skirt and sit directly on whatever I am sitting has been an important part of my fantasies. It is a small detail, one of those, maybe silly, things that makes you excited.
I have this image of a pair; a girl and her lover, who go to a restaurant. They sit in a secluded and dark corner, facing each other across the table. He is dressed in a black suit, very smart, although he is quite young. She has a nice dress, maybe blue, maybe silk. She is young, almost a girl and very shy. She can't look him in the eyes.
They sit down and he looks into her eyes and she looks back, blushes and looks down. He tells her in a soft voice to take off her knickers and give them to him. She starts to rise but he tells her it has to be at the table. She is embarrassed but complies. It is a bit tricky for her to secretly slide the knickers down her hips while still sitting down but she manages. She is mostly concerned with how to get them off her feet without anyone noticing it.
She is very careful and manages to obey him. She blushes as she finds the sensation of the knickers sliding over her skin quite arousing. She is embarrassed by her reaction. She gives him her knickers and he puts them in his pocket. Then he tells her to pull up her skirt and sit directly on the chair. She gives him a pleading look but he is determined and just smiles. She has no choice but to obey him. The dress is long enough so she is able to arrange it in such a way that it is not obvious that she is not sitting on it.
Underneath the skirt she feels her skin touching the fabric of the chair, be it wood or some rough cloth. The dinner goes on and they order and eat their food but not for one second does the girl forget that she is naked on the chair.
She is embarrassed and violently aroused by this and as they walk from the restaurant, through the streets in the night, she knows that she belongs to him and that he has overwhelmed her in a way she had not known was possible. She has obeyed him and knows herself under his spell. She both loves and adores him for this. Of course, he keeps her knickers in his pocket.
Another place where this might happen is a cinema. Imagine sitting in the darkness of a cinema, beside the boy/man you fancy and he whispers in your ear to give him your knickers. It is a bit awkward and you have to try to make the person beside you not notice. Your date takes your knickers and tells you to pull up your skirt. You can't think of the film any more. The only thing you are aware of is the sensation of the cinema seat against your naked skin, the harsh reality touching your soft person and the fact that you have obeyed this person without question.
I have this image of me being a girl or a young woman; teenager or in my early twenties, sitting on a bus. There are people in the bus but I have a double seat for myself. I am dressed in a short summer skirt since it is a hot day. For some strange reason I get the idea of taking off my knickers and there is, of course, some awkwardness and worry regarding this. I stuff them between the seat and the wall and proceed to pull up my skirt. The seat is rough and maybe even dirty and I am sweaty so my thighs stick to the surface. It is a strange sensation sitting there looking around trying to figure out if anyone has noticed.
I feel naked leaving the bus and leaving my knickers on the bus. I walk the street knowing that I am naked under my skirt and thinking that everyone knows that. They can somehow see that I am, indeed, naked under my skirt.
3 comments:
The Story of O ... I'll bet everyone who reads this Blog has a memory of First Encounter with Ms. Reage, and of course O. A meeting never to be forgotten, life-changing.
Seeing the story in print was, for me, a kind of permission. Someone else, and a woman at that (it was obvious, even then, that the author, like her heroine, was female) could write so beautifully, so wickedly.
Janice, haven't you ever acted out your fantasy -- naughty at worst, and even so innocent in its way? Won't you take a walk around the block, perhaps tonight, sans (in that charming word) knickers? Perhaps hand in hand with your lover. perhaps taking some small chance of exposure (pun intended). Could such a small thing (no pun intended, this time) perhaps generate a great heat?
I too have a fascination with this. Being told to remove your underwear and then obeying. Having then to sit bare bottomed on the seat. You are right you would think of nothing else whilst you were sitting naked like that.
Dove
I think, actually, that part of the Story of O was the one that aroused me the most. It is something about being bared to the world and then doing it in public but still hidden...or something.
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